


Soft Spaces

by TinyPineTrees



Series: A/B/O one shots [3]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alpha Alfie Solomons, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Mpreg, Nesting, Omega Tommy Shelby, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyPineTrees/pseuds/TinyPineTrees
Summary: In the early days of the pregnancy, Alfie worries over Tommy’s lack of nesting.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: A/B/O one shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1409266
Comments: 9
Kudos: 163





	Soft Spaces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [When_Tommy_Met_Alfie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/When_Tommy_Met_Alfie/gifts).



> For my dear friend WTMA, please enjoy!

Alfie pulled a bolt of patterned cotton down and checked the price with a quick look. 

He turned the fabric over and glanced down the narrow aisle. A cautious restraint pulled at him as he watched Tommy’s fingers gently worrying into a piece of dark red wool. 

“Do you like that one love?” Alfie asked in a quiet voice. He stepped lightly across the creaking floorboards and ran a hand over the thick wool in Tommy’s hands. “Quite heavy, innit?” His fingers brushed atop before slipping beneath to feel the weight of the soft fabric. 

Tommy blinked up at him, seeming to struggle with his question. 

He looked like he was in a fog as his hazy blue eyes struggled to focus. Humming a quiet “No”, Tommy turned around, his holly scent sweetening as he picked through the fabric. 

Alfie nodded, his own bonfire scent warming at the sight of Tommy’s hands moving with a slow, careful touch from one bolt to the next. Everything was packed together in the small shop, squeezed into the tight space as Tommy browsed. 

They’d known about the baby for over a month now, seven weeks really, and Alfie wasn’t an expert on omegas, but he thought Tommy would’ve started nesting by now.

He had been glad they’d had the excuse of a regular check up to see the doctor and ask, but he wished the appointment hadn't been the terrible event it was. 

The doctor hadn’t discussed nesting at all. He had spoken instead, in a dull and dry tone about Tommy quickly becoming dangerously underweight for a healthy pregnancy, and how he should be trying harder to keep solid food down.   
  
  


How was he supposed to keep anything down though, when every scent and smell turned his stomach? 

Tommy had left quickly after the appointment, stealing through the lobby with a blank look on his face before either Alfie or the doctor could get another word in. 

Alfie had watched as the door to the clinic swung, and the doctor’s voice rolled over him. A monotone hum that advised him again to encourage Tommy to eat. 

By the time Alfie stepped out the door and found Tommy, he was throwing up in a bin. He’d let Alfie straighten his coat and run a hand through his damp fringe, but the dirty alley seemed to encroach on them, whispering aloud their fearful worries. 

_‘What if I lose the—”_ Tommy coughed, unable to finish the sentence. 

Alfie hadn’t had an answer, he tugged him close and pressed a soft kiss into his hair. 

They'd begun the slow walk home, with Alfie keeping close as Tommy drifted quiet. His thoughts spun concerningly loud in the short space between them. Tommy always needed a bit of time after appointments to sort through his thoughts, but Alfie still worried. They were passing the fabric shop when Alfie remembered his earlier thoughts. He thought they might step inside, if only for a moment. Tommy had wandered near the shop several times in the past week and gazed fondly at the displays in the window. 

It wasn’t a difficult challenge to encourage him in. 

It was blissfully quiet inside. Bolts of fabric towered over them, climbing to the ceiling. It would’ve been very dark, if not for the bright blocks of sunlight beaming down on them from faded, glassy windows. Alfie had barely begun to guess how everything was organized before Tommy drifted toward an aisle and his hands began to dance over the fabrics. 

Alfie’s heart stuttered as Tommy’s scent whispered around them, blooming as it filtered through the shop in a gentle arc. 

“This one’s soft, eh?” Alfie said, reaching over to pull a dark blue bolt down for Tommy. “It’s nice this, good quality.” His fingers ran over top as he inched closer and he unrolled a half a metre with his free hand. The color had started coming back to Tommy’s cheeks at least. 

Tommy ran his hand over the fabric, his eyes longing as they traced his fingers. 

“Good for bundling up in, don’t you think?” Alfie asked with a smile. 

“It’s nice,” Tommy nodded as an unsure line creased his forehead. Wilting holly filtered weakly from him, and the color drained from his cheeks again. 

Alfie's mouth went dry as his chest constricted. 

“Now, let’s see,” Alfie started, watching as Tommy blinked up at him, the unspoken worry of losing the baby hiding behind his eyes. His bonfire overtook the weak holly with a quick move, easing the line across Tommy’s forehead as Alfie wrapped his arm around Tommy’s waist. His fingers rubbed soft circles into his side. “Blue goes nicely with just about everything, don’t you think?” 

“Does it?” Tommy asked in a soft voice as he sank into Alfie’s side. 

“I think so, but if you don’t, we don’t have to get it.” Alfie said. “But I think we could make a nice blanket from this.” 

Tommy sniffed wetly, twisting slightly to bury his face into Alfie’s neck. 

“I know love,” Alfie murmured in a soft voice. His hand came up to cradle Tommy’s head. “I know, but think of how far we’ve come,” he added, feeling Tommy’s hands fisting into his coat. “A few months ago we were still trying to even become pregnant, weren’t we?” 

Tommy nodded, his tense shoulders relaxing the longer Alfie held him. 

“And you know,” Alfie began, looping a piece of fabric lightly around his wrist and marking it, “I think that’s pretty fucking good progress.” He pulled the wool free and handed it to Tommy and the tight feeling eased in his chest as Tommy brought it to his nose. 

“Maybe we could buy a few metres, it would look nice with the comforter.” Tommy said, pulling away to check the price. 

“Yeah, I think it will.” Alfie muttered as he walked them to the checkout counter. 

They paid quickly and disappeared from the peaceful shop to step back into London. The bright day seemed to make Tommy come a little further from his shell, but he stayed close to Alfie’s side for the rest of the walk home. Their fingers intertwined gently as Alfie led them through the winding maze of streets. Tommy made a few comments when Alfie stopped at an open air market, but he didn’t have any opinions on their selection and was open to what Alfie picked out. 

They’d managed to get into the front door before Cyril jumped on Alfie and barked a loud excited welcome. He nosed around Tommy in a significantly calmer, but no less pleasant greeting as they came into the kitchen. 

“Do you want this in your office?” Tommy asked, holding up the bag of fabric. 

Alfie stepped past Cyril, cooing lovingly as the dog barked and threaded through his legs. He blinked over at Tommy and dropped a few more bags onto the counter. 

“Nah, put it in the closet with the blankets love, I’ll start sewing ‘em this weekend.” Alfie said, calling a thank you as Tommy climbed the stairs. 

He set about making food, collecting ingredients and lighting the stove top. His hands blessedly busy as he turned over the events in the fabric shop. 

Tommy wanted to nest, that much was clear. The doctor hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but Alfie felt it was just as important to keep Tommy comfortable as it was to keep him eating. Tommy had left his scent on everything he touched as well, marking it and gazing longingly at every bolt of fabric. He hadn’t wanted to admit he wanted them, for fears that Alfie knew related back to losing the baby. Beginning to nest was a commitment, and if they lost the baby, Alfie doubted Tommy’d be able to even look at a pile of blankets. 

“Maybe asking someone?” Alfie muttered to himself, grimacing as he poured oil into a pan and tossed vegetables in. They could ask Ada? Ada was level headed, and she had a knack for slowing Tommy down. She might have some tips for them about how to keep weight on. 

He dropped a few herbs into the pan and sighed. The urge to shout at someone that Tommy was pregnant, but wasn’t doing well built in his chest. On any other day, he’d just tell Tommy about his worries. He’d drag every dark, scared thought from his chest and lay it out for Tommy to pick through and point out inconsistencies and unrealistic worries. 

Ada might say that would help too, for Tommy to feel like Alfie is open with him. She might also say ask Polly, or god forbid Arthur. 

Alfie hissed at the thought. Arthur was more likely to kill him for impregnating his brother than he was to help them. 

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair and glancing up. The muttered words of old hopeful prayers whispered out of him, begging for help. He dreaded the day the family learned about the baby.

The day would have to come eventually. Tommy couldn’t hide being pregnant for much longer. 

If Ada and Polly knew, it might be helpful. It might be terrible too. Alfie hadn’t spoken it out loud, but he wasn’t looking forward to Arthur or John knowing. Arthur would try to threaten him, or threaten Birmingham or London, or hell, all of England. Arthur’s reaction was by far the one Alfie was the most worried for. He wasn’t sure when Tommy wanted to tell them, and he figured they had a few weeks yet, given the dangerous period they were currently in. 

His heart clenched violently at the memory of Tommy's voice croaking out of him in the dirty alley. His bonfire turned ashen and burnt, billowing around him in a smoky cloud. Tommy didn’t deserve to be this worried, he’d been worried enough trying to get pregnant, this should’ve been a happy time for him. 

“A month or two.” Alfie muttered to himself as he shook the pan. If they could handle another month, both Tommy and the baby might be in a more stable condition. If Tommy could hold down food for a couple of meals a day, maybe it would turn into a couple days a week. A slow process, but one that might have results. 

“It _will_ have results.” Alfie nodded to himself with a firm voice. He flicked over a piece of carrot, eyeing it as it sizzled. 

It would. Tommy would be able to hold food down, they’d make sure of it. 

He twisted around to grab salt, pausing as he saw the receipt for the fabric. Tommy must’ve left it there, but he had yet to come back down stairs. He hadn’t been cooking for that long, and Tommy wasn’t the most kitchen inclined person, but he usually poked his nose into what Alfie cooked. Even if he just wanted to grimace and comment on the smell. 

“Tommy, love?” Alfie called, pausing as he tried to listen for a response. He might be throwing up again, and Alfie knew he wouldn’t have wanted him to hear, but that made him all the more worried. 

Alfie pulled the pan off the heat and wiped his hands off. He stepped up the stairs, a nervous twinge in his belly aching and making his bonfire smoke further out around him. He twisted around the bannister, scenting the landing with an anxious twitch of his nose. 

The hallway had turned a pale white in the evening light. Bleak sunlight weakly attempting to warm the floorboards that Alfie walked over. He twisted the rings on his left hand, unable to keep from fidgeting as the silence rang in his ears.

He stepped to the bathroom and tapped a quiet knock on the weathered door, praying that Tommy wasn’t in there. No sound came from inside. 

Alfie’s jaw clenched at the lack of response, and an uncomfortable sweat broke out across his forehead. He worried for Tommy, he worried if the stress of hearing again that he was too underweight was too much. 

The sound of their creaking mattress echoed down the hallway, jumpstarting Alfie’s heart. 

He inched closer to the bedroom, his heart slowing as he scented calm holly blooming from the doorway. 

“He’s fine,” Alfie breathed in relief to himself as he felt the sweat cool on his forehead. He pushed their bedroom door open and peeked around the door. 

He couldn’t hold the bonfire back as it clouded around him again, warm and fiery as he spotted Tommy. 

He was cuddled up on their bed with a comforter tucked up against his back, forming a shallow wall. One of Alfie’s old shirts had been laid over the pillow he was holding. He looked to have gotten halfway through changing, a soft woven grey jumper hid his belly, the sleeves overtaking his hands. He’d pulled his trousers off but seemed to have given up on replacing them. 

An innate urge thrummed in his chest. He wanted to hold Tommy close that instant. He wanted to pull him into his arms and mark every inch of him with his scent.

The fabric Alfie had marked earlier was tucked neatly under Tommy’s nose, while the rest trailed around his knees in a large fluffy circle, meeting the end of the wall of blankets. 

Tommy snuffled and his holly bloomed again, sweetening as he hugged the pillow closer. One of his blankets fell off the foot of the bed, pooling in a lump of fabric. 

It looked like he’d gone through half the blankets and pillows in the cupboard and tossed them to the floor. A haphazard pile of rejected nesting material. 

Alfie inched into the room and reached down to pick up a fallen blanket as he crept closer to the bed. 

Maybe Tommy had just needed Alfie to express an interest in nesting to feel safe enough to get started? Maybe he’d just felt uncomfortable feeling like the only one who needed that comfort. 

“Alfie?” Tommy’s voice cracked with a whisper. 

“Yes sweet thing?” Alfie asked as he crawled carefully onto the mattress. He didn’t want to add the thick blanket to his little nest too quickly, not when Tommy’d only just begun to build it. 

Tommy’s eyes slid open with an icy look at the pet name. A small smile curled across Alfie’s lips, 

“Are you done cooking?” He asked, sniffing cautiously. 

“I can be, as it stands there are some vegetables in a pan downstairs, but they’ll be fine if we leave them. The brave things that they are.” Alfie said, weaving a hand through Tommy’s fringe. 

Tommy hummed and closed his eyes again as Alfie’s fingers scratched over the top of his head. 

“Do you want to add this one?” Alfie asked, lifting the blanket that had fallen. “It’s nice, goes well with the blue fabric I think.” 

Tommy’s eyes cracked open again, widening as he spotted the cover in Alfie’s hand. 

Alfie helped pull him up with a soft hand at his waist, careful not to press too close to his belly in case Tommy hadn’t felt well. He could still smell the cooking oil and vegetables, but Tommy had color on his cheeks and didn’t look ill yet. 

Tommy crawled over top of him and his fingers buried into the soft white cotton. His nose twitched as he twisted and began tugging at the fabric from the shop. 

The evening light washed over Tommy’s jumper as he worked, brightening the room with a dim glow. The warm nest slowly took shape as Tommy worked. He pushed soft, cream colored pillows into place and ran a gentle finger over Alfie’s waist, encouraging him to turn on his side to form a sturdier wall than the fabric had been. 

Alfie watched with a careful eye, and was quick to inch into whichever direction Tommy nudged him. 

With a final touch, Tommy sat back on his knees. His eyes ran over the bedding, seeming to ensure everything was in it’s correct spot before sinking down to curl into Alfie’s chest. 

“Tired love?” Alfie asked with a whisper. He wove a finger through Tommy’s hair again, watching as it dropped softly onto the pillows. 

Tommy hummed and pushed himself closer. He breathed in deeply as Alfie’s scent hung heavy around them. The urge to mark everything hadn’t dulled in the slightest. Alfie half thought Tommy might appreciate it, going by his deep breaths. 

“Maybe later, we can try eating.” Tommy said, his voice muffled by Alfie’s shirt. 

Alfie wound an arm around Tommy’s back, pressing him closer still. Things would get better. Tommy just needed a place that was soft and safe. 

He had the beginnings of that now. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment below if you did! They cheer me up and keep me going. ❤️


End file.
